Monday, June 29, 2009

Heat

I do not like excessive heat, such at today's. It displeases me. Out of context, anyway. In context, however, it's fine. When I was at the Victoria Falls, for example, the temperature was much as it is here, now, in Bumble's Green. But that's what you expect in that part of the world. Just as you expect crocodiles, too, and so don't grumble overly if one emerges from a river and eats your children. Whereas, if a crocodile were to emerge from the River Lee and and started eating people's children, I'm sure everyone would start bitching about it. Context again. So what I'm saying, basically, is that, just as man-eating crocodiles are fine for Rhodesia, but not for here, temperatures in the 90s should confine themselves to Rhodesia, as well.

Given the extremes I'm currently experiencing, therefore, I'm having to sit in the garden, dressed only in shorts. Fortunately, I am possessed of the sort of body that can be displayed without embarrassment. Still, I don't like the idea of giving the women of the area a “free show”, as it were. But what can be done?

I suppose someone could invent the counterpart of one of those Calor gas-powered patio heaters that pubs use outside in winter. Except it would have a refrigeration mechanism inside, instead, and therefore be a patio cooler, effective over a radius of about six feet. Then again, the disadvantage of having one of these is that it might encourage smokers to come into my garden and congregate underneath in a huddled mass, exhaling their pollutants, getting pissed on cheap lager, and shagging themselves silly. Or worse, it might encourage immigrant crocodiles to emerge from the River Lee in order to more efficiently cool themselves. (Or, if they were male and female, they might shag themselves silly as well.)

I'm sure the crocodiles would eat all the lager lout smokers but, still, they're not something I'd want in my garden. Slugs and snails are fucking bad enough. At least they can be dealt with by pouring salt on them. A crocodile probably wouldn't react in the same way, though. Which is why, when you see one of those Tarzan films where he's fighting with a crocodile in a river, he always uses a knife to kill it, and never bothers trying a bag of Saxa.

1 comment:

Firstly, it isn't hot. Hot is 110 in Sydney going to school. Hot is 111 on the Chechen border working with orphans. Secondly it is Zimbabwe you white colonialist cunt, not Rhodesia. Mind you I still call Peking "Peking" not fucking Beizhing. Rest of the blog was perfect.

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My efforts to make a successful living as a slum landlord in the Peter Rachman mould are currently being thwarted by the fact that none of my properties are yet slums. I live in hope, however. In the meantime, I am trading in endangered species to make ends meet. Powdered black rhino horn is one of my company's more popular lines. Powdered black rhino comes a close second. Available in both 500 gram and 1 kilo sachets, it can easily be reconstituted with boiling water to create a delicious rhinoceros snack which is said by many to be almost as tasty as the fresh article.